


Tethered

by BiancaBlue



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: But it's shock collars instead, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feelings Realization, Handcuffed Together, Sexual Tension, Smut, Vegebul
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:02:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24812002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiancaBlue/pseuds/BiancaBlue
Summary: Suspected of treason, PTO scientist Bulma is locked up in a galactic prison. Her cellmate: the notoriously vicious Saiyan warrior, Vegeta. Although they don't get along, they need to work together to escape. Only there's a teensy little problem impeding that goal:They're bound together by their collars, and if they get too far from each other, their collars will zap them both.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 11
Kudos: 59





	Tethered

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ages ago, but I never thought to post it until now. What happens when two opposites are stuck together and unable to get away from each other?
> 
> Sexy time, obviously.

“Stupid monkey.”

The heavy steel door slammed shut, leaving him once again locked in the concrete room with the now silenced corpse of his former cellmate. Not that it was a bad thing – he preferred having space to himself. Just not like this, being caged like some sort of animal. He was a soldier, not a savage from some irrelevant planet. 

Those lifeforms were more difficult to deal with than he had anticipated. Power levels negligible, he didn’t think it would take more than a couple days to ensure all of them were wiped out with a thorough search. He had tasked Raditz and Nappa with the easy kills, knowing their simple minds could handle a basic order, while he sought out the hiding stragglers. Whatever these creatures were capable of took him by surprise.

They had a mechanism that allowed them to mask their ki signature completely. His scouter couldn’t pick up a single reading when he entered a cave for a short rest, only to find a group of terrified locals huddled together. At first he had suspected his scouter was malfunctioning, but it became more clear that they had the ability to go undetected.

That, compounded with the cavernous geography of the whole planet, made the mission ten times more difficult. The three Saiyans fought suns up to suns down to hunt all the inhabitants, but they couldn’t manage to find them all in their allotted time. Frieza’s shrill voice over the scouter’s telecom still rang through his sensitive ears, demanding they return to base immediately.

He had been dreading that moment. He hadn’t fucked up that badly in years. Not since he was a child.

Frieza gave the three the beating of a lifetime once they returned before tossing him in the tank and subsequently chaining him up on some gods-know-where prison planet.

And now here he was, having been locked up for weeks, unable to move around, train, or even eat a decent meal. The guard had just left with his food, taunting him as he starved. With a dissatisfied growl, the fur on his tail bristled before he wrapped the appendage around his waist.

If only he could blast his way out of here with a quick flash of his ki. If only he could rip the ki inhibiting collar from his neck. If only he could choke the life out of Frieza’s putrid body. Damn it all, he was a prince. This wasn’t where he was meant to be.

* * *

“H-hey! Watch it, bud! You’re going to break my arms!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so slow, I wouldn’t have to drag you.”

“I’m going as fast as I can! I’m not the one who’s practically running!”

A reptilian-looking guard with military armor had her arms chained together behind her back, roughly pulling her through the empty hall. He wasn’t giving her any explanation for whatever the hell was going on. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was scared. Somewhere along the line, she fucked up. This was serious. She was pretty sure she was on one of Frieza’s prison planets.

After Frieza had invaded Earth, she had convinced the tyrant to spare her family and friends in exchange for her knowledge of technology design. He’d allowed her to be one of his scientists, but she hadn’t heard from anyone since. She was left completely in the dark.

It had been a few years since then and there was still no information on the status of Earth. The days on Frieza Planet 50 were spent drawing up blueprints, creating prototypes, and showing off her new weapons to the other scientists. And that was the last thing she did before it went wrong.

The new ki blaster was mostly ready to go, and she was eager to show her colleagues how it worked. One of the chief scientists volunteered to test it out and she had enthusiastically taught him the controls. He geared it up, aimed, and fired. 

He erupted into an explosion of flames instantly. 

It was a whirlwind after that. Bulma was shuffled around, reprimanded for her faulty technology, and Frieza had said something. It was an accident, she insisted. An error. But nevertheless, she was told she was going off-planet. No one said why, but she had a feeling as they kept her in cuffs under the watchful eye of a soldier on the ride there.

Now that Bulma was being dragged through the hall of the prison planet, she knew.

The doors to another hall flew open, and loud voices and screeches burst into her ears. Lining the walls were several barred cells filled with galactic criminals and prisoners of war. The scum of the universe all in one spot. She hissed as the guard grabbed her tighter and yanked her arms while he sped along. 

Many of the prisoners clutched the bars tightly and stared at her as she passed, throwing jeers and whistles in her direction, their vulgar words making her feel more like a piece of meat than a person. Attempting to ignore it was the only thing she could do to quell her growing discomfort.

It was then that she noticed that the prisoners were all sharing their cells with others, not to mention that as far as she could tell, she was the only woman.

Oh, _hell_ no.

Bulma frantically squirmed in the guard’s grip, trying to slow him down, but there wasn’t much use.

“Where are you taking me? You can’t actually tell me I’m sharing with one of these creeps?!” she cried. The guard stopped his movement and looked down at her.

“You want to? I’m more than happy to put you in one of these,” he taunted as he turned to face a cell with a particularly disgusting looking alien. Bulma recoiled back like she was burned.

“No! _God_ , no. I’m serious, why am I here?” she pleaded as he resumed pulling her down the hall towards the next set of doors. He didn’t muster a reply.

It was growing harder to keep it together. Fear had taken root in her stomach, making her feel about ready to hurl, and the hollers got louder and more vile. She closed her eyes as tears threatened to fall and she forced her feet to move faster. _Hang in there, Bulma._

It felt like an eternity before the guard swung the set of doors open and they entered the next section. As soon as the metal slammed shut with a resounding boom, the voices were replaced with silence. She looked around, noting the change in atmosphere. The whole hall was immaculate and clinical, with each cell having its own solid metal door. This was more her speed; she wasn’t keen on being stared at like a zoo animal nor sharing her space with a bunch of raging perverts. 

“You’re staying in one of these special rooms,” the guard revealed with a hint of thinly veiled sarcasm. 

Bulma let out a sigh of relief. Thank fuck Frieza had the decency to keep her away from the rest of the dangerous inmates. That’s what these rooms were for, right?

The guard stopped in front of one of the cells to the left and began fumbling with the keys in his pocket.

“And you’ve got a couple of roommates. Lucky you,” he added dryly.

Bulma’s eyes damn near bugged out of her skull.

_What._

Fear socked her straight in the gut and took her breath away. What the hell did he mean by roommates? For the love of all things holy, what…

“Wait, hold up! I can’t share a cell, I’m just a human! I-I… What am I supposed to do? Why can’t I have my own room? Wait–”

“Not my problem.”

Bulma had zero time to protest further. The cell opened and the guard quickly removed her cuffs before shoving her in and slamming the door shut behind her.

“Hey! Come back!” she yelled, pounding on the steel door with what little strength she had. “Don’t you leave me here, you piece of shit!” Her hands were definitely going to bruise later. 

It didn’t take long before she gave up, chest heaving with effort. Remembering that she was not alone, she slowly turned around to see who she was dealing with, her eyes frantically taking in her new surroundings.

A man strongly resembling a human sat in the shadows against the left wall near the back corner. It didn’t take an expert to know that he was a fighter of some kind; his body was built like a statue. His attire, on the other hand, was unusual compared to what they gave her, not unlike the suits issued to Frieza’s soldiers, but with an added furry brown belt. His hair stood tall and his eyes were dark as they glared at her. He only looked for a short while before pulling his gaze away with disinterest.

Near the right wall, another alien, a large bug-like man with scaly skin, lay sleeping on the floor. Or maybe resting his eyes? It was a bit hard to tell, but she was not about to go over to check.

Bulma didn’t know how to proceed. It didn’t look like either of the prisoners really cared that she was there, but that bug thing was giving her the creeps. It was cold and dark and she was really confused about just about everything. Slowly, she walked over to the left wall, opposite the bug man, and sank down onto the cold concrete floor, hugging her legs into her chest and looking down.

This was too much. She couldn't stay in here, let alone fall asleep. No way was she trusting these men with her life. There had to be a misunderstanding. Why would they lock a human woman with zero combat skills up with a couple of dangerous aliens? Why was she even here? It was only a weapon malfunction.

“Do you… do you guys know how to get the guard to come back?”

No response. _Real_ smooth. _Just pretend you don’t hear me._

It occurred to her that maybe they didn’t speak the same language. She wasn’t going to press the issue. A guard would have to come back at some point. Then she could get the whole situation cleared up. Until then, she’d just have to hang tight.

* * *

The days Vegeta spent in the cell were comprised of doing a mix of sit-ups, push-ups, and perfecting his form while his nights were spent in his corner trying to get a few hours of sleep. He had been planning his escape from Frieza for years now, but it seemed like just now the tyrant was starting to catch on. 

What gave it away? They hadn’t been trying to abandon their mission on their last purge. There was no way Frieza was that observant. Clearly the two incompetent fools he called his men disclosed a little bit too much information.

He was taking a break from his training against the wall when the sounds of the door opening took his interest. A female prisoner was dragged in, screeching and thrashing against the door to no avail. The sound was ear splitting. Apparently every creature in the universe was hell-bent on frustrating him.

It appeared after a minute or so that she realized she wasn’t going anywhere and turned around. The woman looked Saiyan but frail and weak; hardly anyone with actual worth – a human. Why she needed to be in a galactic prison meant for soldiers was beyond him.

She finally decided to stop gawking and do something else, and he heard as her gentle footsteps made their way to the wall a few feet from him. His eyes were just about to close and lull his mind to rest when she asked a question in a pitiful, shaky voice. Her accent clearly indicated that her Galactic Standard was not up to par. 

He didn’t bother to respond to her. The damn woman didn’t seem to register why she was in a jumpsuit, with a collar, on a prison planet. Idiot. He wasn’t here to ease her worry; he wanted to be left alone. 

After a short nap, Vegeta was back to training in his corner, ignoring everything but the thoughts rampant in his mind and the hunger in his empty stomach.

* * *

She couldn’t sleep.

But the bug man sure could. Hours must have passed and he was still out cold in his spot, not having moved a muscle. She couldn’t even see the rise and fall of his breathing. What was this guy’s deal?

“Hey,” she said softly to the man to her left, “is he okay? How long has he been out?”

The man didn’t look at her, and his initial silence made her think he wasn’t going to answer, but just as she was considering getting up to check, he did.

“It’s dead.”

“What?” she whispered. For a split second, her heart stopped. He killed the bug man.

She curled up further into herself for warmth. There was no telling what was in store for her the longer she remained in this prison. How long were they planning on keeping her without an explanation? Where was her damn lawyer? Knowing how conniving Frieza was, it wouldn’t be too surprising if torture was on the menu.

Bulma’s eyes shot wide open. Torture, _violence_. Bingo! This cellmate of hers was a violent powerhouse, but maybe that would come in handy. 

She was getting out of here. 

After a few minutes of silent deliberation, she turned to look at the man. “So, what are you in for?”

He grunted and proceeded to ignore her. Okay, a touchy subject. Maybe starting with the basics and getting some introductions going would be a better course of action.

“What’s your name? I’m Bulma, by the way.”

He finally opened his eyes to glance at her, but he didn’t look at all happy to see her. Thick brows slanted downward and dark eyes narrowed in what could only be perceived as annoyance. His stare pierced right through her, and it almost felt like he was in her mind, scrutinizing every detail of her being.

She suddenly felt even more vulnerable. What the hell was she doing? The man literally killed someone in the very room they were sitting in, and she was trying to chat with him like he was an airplane acquaintance!

She needed to cut right to the chase. If she wanted to attempt a prison break, then she needed his help. Turn that feral energy into something a bit more useful. If that meant being more assertive with him, then so be it.

“Look, I know you’re not really a talkative person, but hear me out. I have a plan. I think we should work together to get out of here.”

He gave an amused snort. “Not happening.”

_That_ got his attention. Not really a surprise he shot her down so quickly. “Not happening because you think it’s unrealistic, or not happening because you don’t wanna work with me?”

He turned his body toward her with a deep scowl etched on his face. “As if you’re capable of being anything other than irritating. Even if I were to break out of this cage, there is no getting rid of the collar. No one can make it far before being subdued without their ki.”

Then he gave her a once-over before snarling, “Especially not a whore with the power level of an insect.”

How _dare_ he! Bulma’s rage shook her body like an earthquake and sizzling-hot insults were flowing to the tip of her tongue, just waiting to erupt and rain down on this jackass in front of her. But before she could say something stupid, she forced in a breath and tried to cool her temper down. She was going to be the better person here, no matter how badly she wanted to get in his face.

“I told you I have a plan,” she grit out, digging her nails into the material of her jumpsuit, “and it has nothing to do with my power level. Do not underestimate me. Now tell me your name so I can address you properly.”

He gave an angry hiss before conceding. “Vegeta.”

Bulma tried hard not to acknowledge the ire in his tone and she sat up straighter, the confidence from her small victory inflating her bruised ego. 

“You said something about your collar and ki. I assume what we’re wearing inhibits its use?”

“Not yours,” he bit. “Your collar regulates gravity so that you are not crushed by your own frailty. Now, instead of wasting my time, how about telling me your plan?” It was obvious from the tone of his voice that he didn’t want to spend one more second talking to her. Psh! As if she didn’t feel the exact same with the way he was talking to her right now!

“You see, I’m one of Frieza’s top scientists,” Bulma said, voice brimming with pride. “I specialize in technology design.”

He cocked his head to the side and carefully narrowed his eyes at her. It looked like he didn’t believe her – which made sense, of course – a woman of her genius and beauty was hard to come by.

“Let me take a look at your collar. I’ll see if I can find some sort of entry point.”

Vegeta’s lip curled up into a snarl and he bared his teeth as she crawled over to his back to get a better look. He didn’t like her being so close? Boo hoo. He would just need to suck it up; she would only be there for a minute.

Bulma ran a hand across the metal, analyzing the screws and patterns and looking for anything peculiar. It was a marvel of galactic technology, the design sleek and expertly crafted. There wasn’t any sign of a button or sensor from what she could tell – just stylistic patterns.

“Hmm, there’s nothing really here. There’s a small triangle on the back, but that’s about it.” 

She saw him go rigid at her observation. When he spoke next, his voice was low and dangerous.

“...What triangle?”

“Isosceles, I think.”

He growled. “For fuck’s sake, I’m talking about– you know what? Turn around.” 

Before she could do it herself, he forcefully spun her by the shoulders and looked at the back of her gravity collar. Sure enough, there was the same triangle on the back of hers too. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” he grumbled from behind her.

“What? I don’t understand what the big deal is.”

“These aren’t just any ki or gravity collars. They’re shock collars.”

“What?!” It wasn’t horribly unexpected, but the thought that such a device was around her neck was unsettling.

“You heard me. This is not good.”

She turned around to face him. “Why are you making it sound like they’re not the norm around here?”

“Because they’re not!” he snapped. “These collars come in pairs and are activated by distance. If the two wearers get within a certain distance away from each other, they will receive electric shocks. After a set distance, the shocks become lethal.”

“Oh, god.” Bulma felt like she was going to be sick. “Why do they even exist? What’s the point?”

It made zero sense. A shock collar in any other circumstance would limit one’s range in relation to where they stood within a contained area. But shock collars on two individuals based on their proximity to one another was completely unheard of. She figured shock collars on prisoners would be remotely controlled by guards. This, though… Frieza was a sick bastard, wasn’t he?

“Does it really matter, woman? How am I supposed to get out of here when I’m essentially stuck to some useless human?”

She did _not_ appreciate being called useless. “I know technology, buddy. If there’s anything I can do, it’s busting into gadgets and figuring them out.”

He snorted. “You really think you can disable PTO tech without any tools? Get real.”

“Well, probably not. But if we can sneak out to grab some stuff lying around that I’ll need, then we might have a shot at this.”

Vegeta groaned in frustration.

“I’m serious. What do you say?” She extended her hand to him, offering a smile. “Wanna help me get us out of here?”

It was a long shot, hoping that she could evade the guards’ watch for just enough time. There was no real plan just yet, and Vegeta more than likely doubted her prowess. But she needed him to trust her on this. There was no time to wait around for a savior. The best time to escape was now.

He glared at her, pointedly ignoring her friendly gesture, to which she retracted her arm. “Make no mistake. I am only doing this for my benefit. It just so happens that you are coming along.” He got up and walked over to his corner to sleep, turning his back to her as he lay down. “Damn collars,” he added under his breath.

“Alrighty then. We’ll plan our escape tomorrow.” Bulma went over to her spot and curled up too. “Goodnight.”

She didn’t get a response. She wasn’t expecting to. No big deal. They were going to get out of this nasty prison. Nothing could stop her now.

Except for that collar, of course.


End file.
